Deep within the woods of Teldrassil, a small Night Elf child was born to Azeroth, bearing no fault or scar to speak of. He was raised well; taken under the wings of the Cenarion Circle that visited frequently from Darnassus. He made Shadowglen his home, feeling more than welcome there with the other night elves watching him. All was peaceful, the forest was his sanctuary. The child, named Sanuren by the druids of the Cenarion Circle, couldn’t be happier in his new home. He was placed with a young female named Syana, by the Cenarion Circle. They both grew close enough they both considered each other to be siblings. All seemed well, until the coming of the Scourge Invasion. Young Sanuren watched as the ones he knew, the ones that he had come to trust and love, slowly were turned to the undead servants of the Lich King’s scourge army. He had no choice but to run. Stealthily evading the ghouls that roamed the fields and roads of the once-pure Teldrassil, Sanuren fled deep into its forests.

It must have been days – he couldn’t see the sun or the moon through the thick leaves of the tall, towering trees. All he knew was the dim light of the forest was constant, and to him it was disheartening. He remembered what he had left behind – all the elders, everyone he respected. Even his sister, Syana was abandoned in his panic. He had to go back. He finally worked up the courage to travel back to his beloved home, noticing there was less undeath and more of the normal wildlife that usually inhabited the area. He finally saw it – Shadowglen, wrapped around the mighty tree in its center. Still as glorious and beautiful as ever – but deserted. Fearing the worst, he roamed through the quiet halls. It was then that he heard a cough, faint, but loud enough to startle him. He crept closer to the area where he had heard it. He strained his slim, pointed ears to locate the source of the noise. In a darkened corner, huddled together were three figures. He beckoned them out of the shadows. As they slowly emerged, he recognized them – The master rogue of Shadowglen, the master druid, and, to his surprise – his precious sister, Syana. Overjoyed to see her, he ran forth and took her up in his arms. When all was sorted out and names were exchanged, the masters explained to Sanuren what had happened to the town. This motivated Sanuren to finally train to help defend the living beings of Azeroth against the scourge, and whatever other threat lay out in the world. Alas, with only two trainers and two trainees, the choices were limited. After quiet deliberation, he chose to follow the ways of the Rogue.

Learning of techniques of wielding daggers and swords and poisoning his enemy with each envenomed strike, Sanuren felt confident in his ability. Eventually he was finished his training, followed closely by Syana as a druid. They were both given weapons by their master – a dagger for Sanuren, and a staff for Syana. The two masters sent them on their way to bigger opportunities that awaited them, while they sought survivors to rebuild. They travelled forth, across the great tree Teldrassil, to Dolanaar, and eventually the capital of Darnassus, both suffering the same fate as Shadowglen. The Scourge had driven away nearly everyone, leaving no trace of any existence besides the beautifully constructed buildings. They travelled through the portal to Rut’Theran Village, and saw a hopeful sight – Squinting their eyes, they saw at a distance, a small boat at the end of the dock. They ran out to it and slowly stepped aboard. They were instantly greeted by a small creature who burst out of the cabin. He explained he was a gnome. A funny little cretin – Neither of them have seen such a strange being. He was rambling about something considering being sent to find survivors – Sanuren couldn’t really tell. He was talking so fast, and he imagined the squeaky voice would be hard to understand without its confusing speed. What he had understood was an offer to sail the pair to a place they’d never heard of before – Stormwind.

Figuring any place would be better than the newly desolated one they were in, they consented to the odd little man’s kind offer, and soon found themselves in the grand harbours of Stormwind. After stepping out of the boat, the gnome pulled away, muttering under his breath. They were left there, and glancing around, started to walk towards the gates and into the city. It was inhabited by more beings Sanuren and Syana had never laid eyes on. Sanuren picked up a word from one of them – Raving Lunatic - Perhaps that was what these things call themselves. It was clear they didn’t speak Darnassian. At least the gnome had some education in the language, but Sanuren couldn’t understand a word the Raving Lunatics were saying. As Sanuren and his sister stayed in Stormwind, they discovered these people weren’t as friendly as the Night Elves in Darnassus, and they soon found themselves alone and fending for themselves. They had no food, water, or shelter, and not even a single copper piece to buy anything they needed. Besides the clothes on their backs, all they had were the weapons their masters had trusted them with. They were foreign refugees in a strange land with nothing to their names.

Dying of starvation, they started getting desperate. When Sanuren heard the baker announcing his fresh batch as he walked the cobblestone path early in the morning, his heart lifted, and he quickly came up with an idea. He warned Syana to stay put. Remembering the Rogue master’s lessons, Sanuren used what he learned to immobilize the baker, and slowly lifted a loaf out from his basket. Suddenly, he heard a booming voice in a language he didn’t understand. He spun around to see five guards charging towards him. His vision quickly darted from them to the loaf, and, realizing what he had done, sprinted in the opposite direction. Both he and the guards shoved the baker out of the way, and a wild chase ensued. Sanuren took Syana by the hand and they both ran as fast as their weak legs could take them. Suddenly, Syana tripped over a mislaid stone. She was quickly snatched up and detained by two of the soldiers. Sanuren was ready to keep running, but hesitated. He did not want to leave his sister behind. He didn’t want to lose her again. He turned around to face the guards. When he caught up, one of them laughed and reached out to grab him. Swiftly and without hesitation, Sanuren whipped out his dagger and, with a single, clean strike, cut the guard’s hand off. The other two, ignoring their partner’s injuries and screams of pain, and stepping over the fresh pool of blood that stained the stones of the street, quickly captured Sanuren and led him and his sister to be incarcerated in the Stockade.

When Sanuren looked around his cell, he saw nothing. He was alone. They had locked Syana up in another cell – She was only his accomplice, he figured. He was under tight security in what seemed to be a hallway far away from the entrance. He then heard a voice that startled him. He whipped his head around to see someone emerging from a dark corner of the cell. He looked like one of the Raving Lunatics, but he spoke Darnassian. It was broken and not perfect, but Sanuren could understand him. They began conversations. Sanuren explained his life, his experiences in Shadowglen, the attack of the Scourge, all up to how he ended up imprisoned. The strange man told him many things. He explained not everyone around were Raving Lunatics, but they were all certainly Humans. He had time to teach Sanuren of their Common language. He then told Sanuren his own story, but Sanuren was distracted. Once again dwelling on his teachings, he remembered a technique his master taught him to break mechanical seals on chests. As he looked at the roughly constructed iron bars of the cell, he saw a similar device keeping it shut. With a sudden surge of hope, Sanuren was motivated to act. He interrupted the man, asking for any tools he may have. All he had to offer was a metal utensil – he called it a fork – from his meal earlier that day. As he complained of the poor quality and service of each meal, Sanuren took the fork and began working the lock. After some time of trying, he heard a gentle pop, and he effortlessly pushed the door open. With gasps all around, Sanuren emerged from his cage and, without thinking, ran down the hall to look for his sister.

The cells were so dark it was hard to see inside. Some had iron bars like his own, and some were simply closed off with a wooden door. Sanuren took a torch from the wall and began unlocking each cell, looking for his sister. Door after door he opened, with no sign of his defenceless sister. Until he came upon the last cell door and opened it slowly. A weeping Syana came running out the door and grasped Sanuren as if it had been years, as opposed to days, that she’d seen him. Without hesitation, Sanuren headed for the exit, with Syana in his arms. As he rounded the corner, he noticed a problem – his opening all the cell doors had set the criminals free. Now running amuck, a group decided to attack them. Sanuren flinched, and as he slowly opened his eyes, he noticed the criminals were entangled in roots. A trick Syana’s Druid master had taught her. Congratulating her and thinking quickly, Sanuren threw his torch at the roots, setting them ablaze. The constriction and the heat from the fire killed off the hostile group, allowing the two to escape. To hide his identity, Sanuren knelt down and took one of the bandit’s masks. Narrowly dodging the guards and running as fast as they could, they narrowly escaped with their lives, and fled into the forests of Elwynn.

Sanuren explained to his druid sister it wasn’t safe for her where they were, and she had to find some way of getting back home to Teldrassil. It was then she explained to him of another of the druid’s abilities – She knew a spell to take her to a safe haven, a place called Moonglade. She explained her trainer told her it was inhabited by other Night Elves and another species – Tauren. They were all druids from the Cenarion Circle. Sanuren trusted this, and she soon teleported herself to that safe place. Sanuren hoped she would be safe, and that they would meet again soon. He then took action. If he was to remain unpunished for what he had done, no-one must recognize him. They most likely had paintings of what he looked like posted all over the city. Taking his dagger in his hand, he took a deep breath and started to cut into the skin on his face. If he was disfigured by scars, he wouldn’t be recognized. Washing his dagger in a nearby lake and slowly struggling past the pain, Sanuren spotted an oblivious villager. He snuck up behind him and stabbed him in the back, silently killing him. He knew it was inhumane, but he had to. He took the man’s clothes and put them on. He then made friends with the humans under his new persona, and began his adventures against anything that threatened to ruin the lives of the people around him, who were seemingly oblivious to his past.

He soon returned to Kalimdor and to Darnassus. He was delighted to see it repopulated, the Scourge’s influence gone. He made Darnassus his home from that day forth. Alas, to this day, despite his noble fighting and searching, he has not seen a sign of his lost sister.

This was written quite a while ago, I would greatly apprecciate any help to iron this out. It involves my main character, Sanuren, and my alt, Syana. There is, of course, more to the story, but this is just an introduction of sorts.